The S and S of Calamity
by LeGrande Grover
Summary: A friend of Orphen appears in the midst of a demon's rampage on a town. Cleo is taken by new love and is forced to face her feelings for Orphen or move on. Only Majic knows what's real. Epilogue now included.
1. Introductions

The S and S of Calamity; Introductions  
  
The later months had always brought colder nights. The night sky was a dangerous desire when the nights brought on such chills, but some could not help but leave the warmth of the fire to bask under the glow of the heavens. When dew was structured and breath near vapor, a fire was the only solace for human or thing. Seeing as the fire was the only thing alive in this ruin, one would be foolish to wander from the flame.  
  
Cleo could not let such a night go to waste. Actually, she had been lured into the night by a warm breeze which coursed through the breeched walls of this once proud fortress. Where might had once been, only spirits wandered. Currently, Cleo wandered. With a blanket wrapped around her, she had snuck away from Orphen and Majic to find the warmth and marvel at the endless black above her. Even with the blanket she shivered, pulling the cloth tightly around her and biting down lightly at the balled folds in her hands. "What I wouldn't give for a fireplace and a comfy couch right now. Where's the warm air coming from, I wonder." she spoke to the night and started up some stairs. Ahead she saw a faint light and took in a short breath, wondering if she should turn back and get Orphen. After turning the idea over in her head and the obvious implications it would bring, she snorted heavily and pressed her lips in brutal stubborn pride. "Hmph, he'd probably complain that I woke him up! Stupid Orphen! Sometimes he makes me want to…" Her ranting was cut short as a stair crumbled under her feet and sent her spiraling down into the depths of the ruin. Even her scream lost its potency against the living walls.  
  
By the time she came around and opened her eyes, the sky was lightening a bit and the air thickened. She could look up to the hole in stairs above her but where she landed was no place she had seen. When she stirred, an ache ripped through her back and caused her to whimper, "Owww, that really hurt. I won't be able to sit for a week!" Her blanket had helped with the impact and she suddenly felt the chill again. As she pulled the blanket back around her lithe form, her eyes were cast up to the freedom that was above her, hoping to see Majic or Orphen heard her scream. What she got was Leki. The small dragon peeked over the edge at her and looked worried; somewhat puzzled at why Cleo was down in such a place. Cleo smiled with a great hope building in her eyes, "Leki! Good boy! Go find Orphen or Majic and tell them I'm down here! Tell them I need help!" Leki canted his head a bit and then disappeared from her sight.   
  
Now all she could do was wait. For the first time, she peered into the place where she had fallen and found nothing but shadow. A great sea of black was the only thing which stared back and she couldn't help but shiver lightly when she looked into it. The darkest things came out of the darkest places and this ruin had once been a battlement and a place where death had been resident. Just when she was getting anxious for Orphen to peek over the side to help, a sound came from the dark. As if she wasn't flustered enough, now the ruin had began to play on her fears. "Surely you didn't just hear that, Cleo. There's nothing in the dark but air and rock." she said shakily while sliding to her feet.   
  
To her regret, there was more in the dark than air and rock. A few glimmers of light caught her eye and the sound of scraping across stone tweaked her hearing; as if the place was touching each of her senses one by one. She only wanted to be out of the hole but no one had yet come to help her. Then she saw the first one. A skeleton of a man was leaning against the wall, apparently pinned by a large dagger impaled through its chest. Just the sight of it made her shriek, but then it seemed to react. As if drawn by her, it slowly straightened itself against the wall and lumbered towards her, the dagger slipping effortlessly between its ribs to remain in the wall. It wasn't the only one. A few of these dead soldiers began to emerge from the dark and moved towards her with a purpose. Some dragged sword clutched in their bony hands and some just came as bare as they were. Every one of them scared Cleo out of her wits. "Orphen! Orphen! Orphen! Somebody help meeeeee!"  
  
By now she was pressed against the wall and screaming at the top of her lungs for help. She was in sleeping garments and Leki was nowhere in sight. She was at the mercy of these things and could only watch in terror as they got close.  
  
Suddenly, one of the skeletons was halved down its middle and fell into a heap of bones and dust. Only a quick shimmer of light allowed Cleo to see another force at work. Soon there was a light show of reflection and movement, making all of the attacking skeletons collapse into a second death on the ground. These images reflected in her wide eyes and her mouth was quivering open at this force which came to her rescue. In the end, the final skeleton fell to pieces on the ground and the lightening sky shed light down onto a second life in the dark. All she could see was a figure, tall and slender. A long sword was slung onto a shoulder as attentions seemed to move to her next. There was no face and no detail that she could see, but she could tell it was a man by the shape of his body. Suddenly something was touching her leg and she looked down to see a bony arm and hand latched onto her calf, trying to somehow strike beyond the grave. The feel of the rotten bones made her howl out in disgust and kick the bones away. Then several moments were taken to rub her leg and rant in a sickened voice. "That was disgusting! It touched my right on the leg and tried to feel higher and it was so gross and the bones were still wet and it touched me!!"   
  
After being convinced the bones were gone, she remembered the stranger and looked up, but found nothing but the empty place once more. Whoever it had been, they obviously didn't stay long enough to be recognized. Just as she took a step to look around better, a rope came down from above and draped on her head and shoulders. Once again she went into a panic, "Ahh! What now!? More skeletons and they're touching me all over!"   
  
"What are you babbling about? I thought you wanted help out of there." came a voice from above and ceased her fears. Upon looking up, she saw Orphen, Majic and Leki all looking back down at her. Orphen was a bit perplexed as to why she was so worked up, but he had begun to expect her to act crazy in places like this.   
  
The moment she climbed out of the hole she was clawing at him and weeping into his chest, as if the greatest nightmare of her life had just happened and she was all alone. "It was so scary! I fell into this pit and there were these skeletons what came alive and came after me! They were all bony and disgusting and one even touched me! The whole time I was screaming out but some other guy came but I couldn't really see his face, so I don't really know if he's a guy but he looked like one and he saved me and…" After a moment she trailed off and noticed he wasn't listening at all but just looking at her like she was overreacting. That only proved to make her more angry and she got very steamed at his disbelief, "What are you looking at!? Don't you believe me!?!"  
  
"Sure. You're down and a pit and everything. But, where are the skeletons?" he replied and peered over her into the hole. Majic was peering intently down as well but there was nothing on the floor but dust and stone. The sky was lightening and the sun was nearly over the horizon by now. She had spent almost the whole night down there.   
  
With her story shattered, she jumped from the edge of the pit and back to Orphen a few times, trying to figure out what could have happened. "But they were…I mean…I was right…but what…that's impossible! They were right there!" she shrieked and peered down into the pit with a heaving chest.   
  
Orphen rolled his eyes a bit and headed back to the camp while Majic stood up next to her, hoping to offer some kind of comfort for her. "It's okay, Ms. Cleo. Maybe you hit your head when you fell and dreamed it all?" he offered.  
  
It didn't go over too well and she suddenly grabbed him by the ear and barked violent words right into his head without a buffer, "I did not dream it all! They were right there and one even touched me right on the leg! You believe me, don't you, Majic!" In the face of such a face, he could only smile nervously and nod his head, hoping she would be satisfied with that. And in fact, she did let him go and go storming after Orphen. When Leki followed, Majic took one last look down into the hole before following and even then, an uneasy feeling crept over him and he stopped once more to peer at the shadows where the stairs led. Something foreboding was looming up somewhere near and he could feel it on his neck like a cold breath. In the end, he just turned and went back to camp as well.  
  
It was up those stairs that two figures were perched, watching the events with mild curiosity. One was much smaller, perched on the shoulder of the other. The other had watched the rescue with great interest and ran his fingers over the dull metal on his left arm. A smile just as mild showed in the dark and he rose to his feet, taking the both of them deeper into the shadows.  
  
"Honestly! How long did it take after I screamed before you came after me!? Who knows what would have happened to me if that stranger hadn't come and cut all those gross things up?" Cleo was still going on to Orphen when Majic got back and the sorcerer didn't seem to be all that interested in it. In fact, he was lying back down to sleep again as she was yelling at him, which only infuriated her more.   
  
Before she could go any further, Orphen's eyes opened with a start. A figure was coming down right above him with a sword drawn back for a strike. He had barely enough time to roll out of the way before the tip of the sword impaled his bedding and shattered the stone beneath it to dust. Cleo yelped out as a shockwave from the impact knocked her down and Majic ran to help her, but they all looked up at the same time to find nothing. Orphen's bed was in ruins and there was a crater in the ground where the point had stabbed the earth. "That wasn't an ordinary sword." he muttered and looked around for the assailant. His hands were clenched in anticipation but the ruin was dead and offered no clue as to the next attack. Cleo and Majic watched silently and hoped the next attack wouldn't be on them, but Cleo was the most stirred.   
  
A shadow wavered and Orphen stood straight, his hands opening to let power be wielded. "I release thee, light's unsheathed blade!" he called and a blast of light was sent into the dark. The attacker was found but Orphen was suddenly stricken with what happened to his attack. Without an incantation, the light was stopped by a shield of some kind and dissipated against the wall of green light. The attacker was holding out his left hand and didn't seem to have a scratch on him. With Orphen locating him, there was little else he could do. Speed which took the sorcerer back brought this attacker down on him again and the sword was axed at him from overhead. He barely had enough time to mount a defense, "Blade of Satan, whom I call forth!" A blue blade of light erupted from his hand and he stopped the sword from splitting him in two, but just barely. Though he had seen his blade of light shatter most any metal, this sword seemed to immune to the energy and actually put a strain on his magic. They stood there, pitting metal against magic and strength against spirit. The length at which it could have lasted was a mystery but a single word ended it before that became a factor.  
  
"Orphen!"  
  
Cleo was pulling against Majic's grasp as she looked at the battle. The idea of Orphen being hurt never set well with her and she looked from fighter to fighter, her eyes glowing with worry. Though he couldn't give her a moment of his attention, the scion suddenly felt an easement from the swordsman and took a breath upon hearing a slightly familiar voice. "Orphen? As in the devious, self-centered sorcerer who uses his hands more than he uses his head?"  
  
The swordsman and the sorcerer separated slowly and Orphen finally got a good look at his attacker. The short, black hair, the armor on the left arm and the mythical sword all hit him at the same time and his face lightened considerably. "Pallas? Is that you? What are you doing here?"  
  
Cleo and Majic both stared blankly as this new person and Orphen greeted each other with smiles now. From battle to banter in less than a second, it was obvious the two had met before. "I guess they know each other? Weren't they just fighting?" Cleo asked and looked over this new person. He was tall and lean, having the build of one who lived with a sword and fought many battles. He couldn't have been much older than Orphen. A few scars lined his bare arms and the favor of the light made her look down a moment, perhaps noticing this man a little too well.  
  
Pallas had been a swordsman all his life. With the exception of the enchanted armor and sword, he had never had the genes for magic. However, he had always been an exceptional swordsman and found a name for himself with the blade and not the spell. He was a young man with great skill and great dreams. Such a thing was the equation for a great man. His dark eyes would shimmer violet on enough light and anything such as hair or clothing that could obstruct a swordfight was kept short and neat. Unlike most swordsmen, he wore little armor. Aside from the shoulder armor on his right shoulder, a skeletal piece of armor covered his left forearm and hand, coming to dull claws at the tips of his fingers and having a long plate on the dorsal side. A sorcerer's ward was engraved on the plate and gave the armor a single defensive ability against most magic. When used the right way, this armor could defend against spell and sword, but only someone skilled enough to use it would be able to wield the ward.  
  
Orphen had always been intrigued by the armor and eyed it a moment, but then let his eyes fall to the greater of the treasures this man held. "Still have the Salt Abbey Sword, huh? I thought a rogue like you would have lost it in a bet long before now!" he quipped and smiled at his friend.   
  
"Unlike some people, I don't lose when I bet. I'm surprised to see you walking around fully clothed, Orphen." Pallas replied and slung the sword across his shoulder. The stance made Cleo gasp and memories of the pit wash through her mind. He had been the one who came and sent those skeletons to their graves once more. With the realization, she jumped up and ran up to them both, smiling widely for their mutual benefit.  
  
"Ahhh, it was you! You saved me from all of those gross skeletons! I told you I wasn't dreaming, Orphen!"  
  
They both looked to a moment, then to each other again. Pallas itched his head with the flat end of his sword and then nodded towards her. "Who's the skirt? Don't tell me she's your wife."   
  
"Wife!? How could you even think that!" she roared at him with a discreet blush running rampant on her face. The very idea made her seethe, but it did hold a certain appeal deep with her teenage mind. This guy did have a blunt way of bringing things up and she crossed her arms, looking down between them with a fear of looking at either, hoping not to reveal something that remained hidden.  
  
"We're on a journey. Her name is Cleo and this is my assistant Majic." Orphen said and pointed to the boy lurking away from them all. Pallas looked to him with a quirked brow, and then waved a free hand towards him. Majic oddly looked away when he did and tried to hide something he was thinking. Though this was very odd for him, Orphen just looked back to Pallas with a smile and enjoyed seeing him once again. "How come you're way out here? Don't tell me the famous Rune Fighter of Balloria is sleeping in ruins instead of palaces now."  
  
This made Pallas grin sheepishly and rub his neck, wishing he hadn't brought up that name in front of the others. Much to his dismay, Cleo's face brightened at the name. "You mean you're the Rune Fighter? I've heard stories about you everywhere! Is it true you fought an entire army to save that single mother and her sick child?" she asked and looked up to him with sparkling eyes. This had been the best thing that happened to her in a while and she was grateful for such a break.   
  
He laughed weakly and slowly slid his sword into the scabbard behind his waist. There was something tired in his eyes when he looked at her and his smile seemed to hide a mountain. "Those stories get exaggerated by everyone. It was more like ten guys and they were just trying to steal the boy's inheritance. Really, I'm just a normal guy who knows how to hold a sword. Orphen here, he's the real deal; mister big shot sorcerer who's got the Tower's panties in a knot. Did you ever find whatever it was you were looking for?"   
  
The quest was brought back into focus for all of them and Orphen's face dimmed. With the shake of his head, he summed it up for Pallas and all was understood. In the air of this reunion, a shadow fluttered about the group with silent wings. Eyes befell the young girl and a giddy laugh was lost in the warming breeze of the rising sun. After a spiraling descent, the creature landed on Cleo's shoulder and embraced the strands of hair, taking a deep breath and snuggling up to them. "So soft and clean. I bet you get washed every day, don't you? Heee! I want it all!" it said with a high-pitched laugh.   
  
The feeling of something tugging at her hair caused Cleo to blink and turn her head slightly. What she saw was a black form out of the corner of her eye and she suddenly shrieked. Visions of punctures on the neck and furry fliers made her flail wildly and run around with her rider clinging desperately to her hair. "It's a bat! It's a bat! It's a bat! Get it off me!! I'm gonna be bitten and get rabies or…ewww! Get it off!" she squealed and finally managed to knock the creature from her shoulder. The others were watching speechlessly as she pulled her shoe off and began beating the protesting creature.  
  
"I'm not a bat! Ow! Would you…ack! Pallas! Help me!"  
  
Suddenly Cleo's arm seized and caused her retaliation to come to a screeching halt. With a look of surprise, she turned her head and found Pallas standing behind her, his fingers pinched on her shoe and keeping it from pounding the small figure any longer. "Does that look like bat to you?" he asked and pointed down with his other hand. Upon inspection of her alleged bat, she found a human-like being with two large wings like a bats. By now he was beaten and maimed, but he slowly sat up and held his head, a disoriented look on his face.  
  
"What happened?" he droned in his quiet, high-pitched voice.  
  
Although it wasn't a bat, she wasn't too impressed with the naked little creature and suddenly jumped behind Pallas, peeking around him and clutching to his arm tightly. Her face exhumed exactly what manner of thought she had, for most natural things born of magic were a little too odd for her to like. "What is it!? It looks like a bat. Are you sure it's not a bat?"  
  
"It's an imp." Orphen idly stepped forward and peered down at the creature. He had never seen one before, but he had heard of them. There wasn't much information about any sub-species of dragons and only a few were even named, but now he was introduced to one right in front of him, which made a few questions arise to the one he knew before. "Is this yours, Pallas? I didn't think you had much faith in magic or magical creatures."  
  
Pallas looked over his shoulder at him but didn't answer right away. Cleo was a bit puzzled by the look in his eyes but when the imp began to flap its wings and rise into the air, she shrunk away behind him once more with a start. The creature was a bit wobbly and still straightening himself out, but it finally began to hold aloft in front of them all. An annoyed expression made it look particularly dark but the voice always seemed to detract from such a ferocious being. "I'm not anyone's! My name is Chiron and I'm tagging along with this human until he takes me where I need to go. If you got a problem with that, sorcerer, come over here and I'll show you how magic is really used!" he hissed and curled a small claw towards Orphen. The threat didn't seem to hold any weight as he smirked lightly, half tempted to cast a spell on the imp to teach him a lesson. However, Pallas pulled away from Cleo finally and snatched the imp out of the air, holding him tightly in his hand and turning to face them all with that glass smile.  
  
"Now that the formal introductions are over, what say you to traveling to Okenforde together? Come on, Orphen, it'll be a good chance to catch up."  
  
Cleo smiled brightly at this idea and looked forward to any time spent with the swordsman. Majic was still battling some entombed feeling he had about this man and wondered if the imp was the source of it. Ultimately, Orphen was the deciding vote. With a smile, he nodded and waved his hand towards Majic. "That sounds like a good idea. Majic, clean the camp up and let's get going." he ordered and filed out of the camp with Pallas at his side. The conversation began to drift as they got further away, "How did you know we were going to Okenforde?"  
  
"Hah! Junk food and women in the same place? Where else would you be going?"  
  
"Would ya keep it down? The whole world doesn't need to know the finer details of our trips together, Pallas."  
  
"Maybe you have changed, Orphen."  
  
Majic hadn't said much while cleaning up the camp. His face told a thousand stories while he began to shove everything into the travel cases and someone came up behind him. "Majic? Why are you so quiet? I thought you'd be happy to meet the Rune Fighter."  
  
He looked up to her and hid what he was thinking behind a smile. With him, everything was kept neatly inside until he could express it at the right time. "I've just been thinking, that's all. From the stories I've heard, he's really great. I guess I was just overwhelmed." he lied and began humming as he finished. Cleo didn't exactly understand what was going on, but she nodded once and started after the two. Soon enough he was following also, staring at the distant figures ahead. Not from the bags or even from the warming sun did he sweat, but beads cooled on his skin and made him grimace under a strain.   
  
"Maybe I am just overreacting. There's nothing to be worried about. Even the master trusts him. Everyone knows how great he is. So…why do I get this bad feeling when he's around?" 


	2. Expectations

The S and S of Calamity; Expectations  
  
  
  
  
  
Okenforde was a medium-sized town nesting right on the banks of a large river. Spires of ancient towers still rose up in the middle of modern structures and offered attractions for tourists, though lingered as a port for controversy among the societies within. Deep ruts from wagon wheels were the legacy of the ruins and many people visited the town to see some of the most unique catacombs in the area. To contrast this image of being a aged town with ruins as its livelihood, the hierarchy had invested in a very modern irrigation system which flowed through the center of the four main streets and offered a cool drink or a pleasant swimming place for the hot days of the ailing summer. With a vast selection of inns, restaurants and shops, the town offered a pleasant stay to any who came. Five more were about to join the masses within the town walls.  
  
"I really only stayed there for a week, but soon they were trying to name kids after me and trying to pay me to protect the town. The gang had left their camp on the outskirts of town and moved along so I guess they thought having me there was enough to keep trouble away but I had to keep moving. From what I hear, they haven't had a day's trouble since." Pallas said as he walked alongside of Orphen. The story was keeping the sorcerer interested but the real effect was on the young girl. Cleo hadn't taken a straight step since they started and was looking at the swordsman with stars in her eyes. These stories made her heart flutter with admiration for Pallas. So many people were living better lives because of him and yet, he seemed to retain a modest mind and simple desires. He saw this fanfare after a moment and blinked, looking down to her curiously. "Are you okay?"  
  
"Mmhm! I bet it's wonderful to go from town to town and help people! When just your name frees an entire city…" she lulled and sighed dreamily. Cleo had always been a nighttime romantic so this was playing on her deepest dreams. The thought of such a man made her weak in the knees, especially since he was walking right next to her. Upon her inspection of her partner, her expression became a bit more critical and she eyed him devilishly. "It's a lot better than blowing everything up and using people to get free room and board. I guess swordsmen and sorcerers lead very different lives, right, Orphen?" she teased and unknowingly walked closer to Pallas.  
  
Orphen rolled his eyes at the comparison and didn't even feel like arguing with her. Sure, he would agree that his friend led a very noble life, but everyone had their own demons to deal with. With Okenforde just minutes away, he glanced to Pallas and made a curious observation. "Pallas, where did Chiron go? I haven't heard Cleo whining about him for a while so he must not be planning to go into the town with us."  
  
Cleo stuck her tongue out at him defiantly and slipped her arm around Pallas's, trying to make him jealous. Pallas seemed a bit uneasy with the playing she did, but he idly shrugged off Orphen's question with a candid tone. "Chiron doesn't enjoy being around many people. Usually he goes off and finds a barn or something to sleep in during the day. When I decide to leave this town, Chiron won't be far behind."  
  
There were still some questions that tugged at Orphen's mind but there would be no time for them. Just before entering the gate, a scream resounded off the walls and grabbed everyone's attention. Groups of townspeople were fleeing out the main gates, each of their faces wild with fear and their running panicked. Orphen came to a stop, as did everyone with him. "What's going on? Everyone's leaving." Cleo seemed very disturbed and searched widely for the cause of this. Majic seemed very apprehensive as well, but Pallas seemed distant. Despite the fact everyone was coming out of the town gates, he was looking up at the spires of the city, as if the answer was written on the ancient stones.   
  
"Maybe there's some kind of drill?" Cleo asked and looked to Orphen. The sorcerer wasn't convinced and started into the gates as the last of the people seemed to be leaving. The rest followed.   
  
Upon entering the town, the four were alone in the littered streets. There hadn't been any damage to buildings or property, but the human factor had been removed. It was at that time Leki began to stir and make a ruckus. As she tried to calm the beast, Cleo slowly felt a rising feeling in her stomach, "I don't like this. Something is making Leki very upset." Her safety was guaranteed, but that didn't keep the fear from welling in her. The next thing made a sound was a metal scraping against metal. There was a harmonious song to the blade as Pallas unsheathed it, though there was no music in his eyes. Cleo was startled by his expression, "What is it, Pallas?"  
  
"We aren't alone. Stick close to Orphen." he responded. A personal smile came across Orphen's face shadows began to emerge from the shadows.  
  
The first one to catch any light was gruesome, a decayed relic from ancient days. It was a skeleton of a man and the remains of forgotten armor still clung helplessly to their owner. In a lifeless hand, it dragged a rusted sword. "It's more of those skeletons!" Cleo shrieked. Majic put down the supplies in a hurry and grimaced, seeing more and more emerge from all around them. Soon, the streets were filled with lumbering echoes of those who once were.  
  
"What's making them come alive? Is it magic?" Majic yelled, turning his back to the others in an attempt to provide defense.  
  
Orphen still looked calm. His hand was resting on his hip and his head was tilted slightly. He had never seen this particular kind of magic and would be very curious to find out what was making this happen. "I don't think they're gonna answer us if we ask. I hope all of you are ready for a fight!" he called and raised his hand up. "My guide is the death-calling starling!" The blast of energy rippled the air towards the skeletons and ripped apart bone and armor, making short work of the first enemies they had found. The street was torn up by the blast and a great cloud of dust rose into the sky, like a signal to the heavens that war was being fought.   
  
Majic located the nearest skeleton and raised his hand, his brow furrowing at the concentration required to channel his magical ability. "I release thee, light's unsheathed blade!" The diluted attack still threw the lifeless creature into a wall and broke it to pieces. Majic was proud of his feat.   
  
Cleo and Leki were making work of a few skeletons. With the dragon at her call, Cleo was a force to be reckoned with. Moving with fearless grace, she smiled confidently this time. Pallas was faced with a few different skeletons. These did not resemble humans, but some other forgotten race which had died in the ages before. Their slow movements made them easy targets, but their sheer number was a factor. When Cleo took her eyes off her battle for a moment, she saw a great thing. With a single swing of the enchanted sword, four skeletons were reduced to dust in the wind. It seemed the blade did more than just sever, but also vanquish evil forces. With grace of movement and that same speed which had sent Orphen backpedaling, Pallas moved among the creatures and destroyed them one by one. There was something intoxicating about his movements and the young girl was distracted from her fight. It would be the reason she was hurt.  
  
The beastly skeleton was slow, but it packed some power within the stale bones. A great, clawed hand was raked across her side and she screamed out, her figure being tossed into a nearby wall under the mercy of new pain. When she got the courage to open her eyes, she saw the cruel beast with claws poised to strike again. Leki was perched on her lap with a growl, daring it to attack once more. However, it was another who aided her. Suddenly the skeleton exploded into a shower of dust. Cleo shut her eyes to protect them, but soon opened them to her savior, relieved and thankful for his vigilant eye. Orphen slowly lowered his hand and smirked, somehow always finding himself saving this girl. Then there was a sudden cry that struck everyone as foreign and dire.   
  
A small child was scooting back from a great winged skeleton, fear burning in his wide eyes and keeping him from running. The great beast held an axe unsteadily but effectively enough to attack. Cleo screamed out for the child and Orphen began an incantation, but the axe was brought down to the stone road with great force. The rusted metal splintered the rock, but found no death. With a slow shift in weight, the beast found Pallas standing close by with the child in his arm and a scowl on his face. "Nobody will die today." he said foully. Even with the child in his arm, he pulled the sword back and brought it across the skeleton, turning it into dust. Despite the fact he was safe, the child began to cry.   
  
Cleo had been watching with wide, blue eyes. Everything thing else seemed to melt away as she watched Pallas glaring angrily to the blasphemous enemy. With sword clutched in his hand, there was something passionate about him; something that brought everything noble into a single form. Every line of his body was beautiful and mesmerizing and she could not help the blush that lightly touched her face. She hadn't even noticed the remaining skeletons were gone. There was nothing important about the fact the streets were empty again. All she could do was forget the pain in her side and run to Pallas, not even hiding her admiration. "That was fantastic! You saved him! Awwww, the poor guy. Come to Cleo." she jittered and took the crying boy from Pallas. The swordsman watched her solemnly, and then seemed to relax in his stance. Slinging the sword across his shoulder, he watched Cleo console the child with little memory of her wounds.  
  
While she was entertaining the child, Orphen walked up with the same, tentative look on his face. "They all just disappeared. Why do you think they were here?"  
  
"This place is old. Who knows what ancient magics are buried here." Pallas replied. The two made one last search of the street with their eyes before looking back to Cleo, who was yelping as the boy pulled on her hair for fun.  
  
"Ow! You little brat! It's not funny! Here I am trying to make you feel better and you start pulling my beautiful hair!"  
  
Orphen and Pallas both found smiles again as they watched her. Pallas slowly sheathed his blade, confident the threat was over, "It never ceases to amaze me. Scare a kid to the point of death and a second later, they'll smile at you."   
  
Orphen laughed lightly and tilted his head, finding a delicious comment coming up his throat. "Yah, but which kid are you talking about?" Cleo heard the remark and seethed at him, only until the child pulled her hair once more. They began to laugh at her once again, finding sanity after the stretch of terror.  
  
Soon Majic walked up to Pallas with a slightly embarrassed look on his face. Something inside him brought this great anxiety when he was close to the swordsman, but he couldn't ignore what he had just seen. A plastic smile was forced onto his face, as if he was truly trying to ignore his instincts, and Pallas looked at him curiously. Majic felt very sheepish. "Pallas, I want to say I'm sorry for being so rude before. The way you saved that boy was really great." There was sincerity behind him, but there was also suspicion. Somehow, he knew getting over the blind mistrust he felt would take some effort on his part.  
  
Pallas blinked a few times in surprise, but ended up dismissing it as just a misunderstanding. A polite shrug rolled over his shoulders and he winked to the boy, offering no grudges towards him. "Forget about it, kid. If I spit a curse at every person who has ever been rude to me, my tongue would have fallen off years ago." he replied. Just like that, the two were allies.  
  
It didn't take long before the townsfolk began to appear from the gate. Hearing the commotion and seeing the explosions, a few brave souls came walking into the town with wooden tools as weapons. The group which had dispatched the skeletons watched as the rest of the town seemed to follow.  
  
"How can we ever thank you? One moment I was working in my shop and the next some dusty skeleton knocks down my door! Can you believe it? That was some magic! Are you a sorcerer?"An old man, seemingly a proprietor of the town, was droning on at Orphen. He was thrilled at the prospect of a sorcerer and his friends helping them out of the bind and didn't give any room to reply. Orphen was almost ready to blast him.  
  
Just a few feet away, however, there was pain of a different sort. "These aren't too deep, but you really should have them looked at." Pallas said as he knelt next to Cleo. Her face was bright with a furious blush as fingers touched a slightly intimate place on her, but something was keeping her from moving. Periodically, a wince would cross her face as he came too close to the cut and air would be sucked through her teeth. Now that her moment of admiration was past, the pain of the cuts set in and forced tears to well defiantly in the corner of her eyes. "Does it hurt much?" he asked and peered up at her. The blush didn't want to leave her cheeks and she looked down at him distantly, not able to shake her head or nod. There was something slightly erotic about it, the pain of the lesions coupled with the soft touch of his fingers on places of her skin which no one was allowed to see, much less touch. Had the monster simply been in front of her and aiming a bit higher, her wounds would have been much more embarrassing and painful. Pallas was a bit puzzled by her expression and her response, but soon began digging into a brown satchel hanging at his side. Being a swordsman, he had no magic to heal. All he had was a roll of white bandage which he was happy to offer her. "This should be good until you see someone. Once you're all patched up, Dr. Pallas can keep an eye on you." he noted with a light chuckle.  
  
Majic, who had been discreetly helping, blinked a few times as he watched the swordsman begin to bandage the cuts. It struck him as slightly odd and he felt the sudden need to protest. "But Orphen can just use his magic to…"  
  
With a mighty shove, Cleo sent Majic head over heels to the ground, silencing his suggestion with cruel, intent efficiency. Her eyes were hidden in her bangs, but they glowed with a fierce determination to have what she wanted. What she wanted was currently where she wanted it.   
  
"This guy says he helps run this place and that there was nothing to warn them about this. There aren't any sorcerers in the entire town and no magic wards of any kind that he knows of." Orphen said as he came walking over with the old man.  
  
Pallas was just standing up beside Cleo and replacing unused bandaged in his satchel. "Maybe it's something deep within one of these ruins you got here? Foul deeds never happen without a good reason." he replied.  
  
Orphen nodded once and glanced up at one of the spires, his senses twisting inside of him. There was truth in his friend's words, but he had yet to figure out what could have caused it all. "Maybe we should look around the ruins, Pallas. There could be something very powerful here."   
  
This brought an anger within Cleo. Once again she was being tossed aside because of a figure from the past and she wouldn't stand for being left out of this, even if she was hurt. However, the name found a stitch with the old man and he perked at hearing it. "Pallas? You mean thee Pallas? The Rune Fighter from Balloria?" he asked with excitement brimming in his voice. There was obviously no boundary to legend and a name could travel fifty miles farther than any man. With the prosperity of other towns booming because of this man, Okenforde was eager to share in such wealth.  
  
"That's right! The same man! Protector of entire cities and saviors of small boys! This is Pallas right here." Cleo cried and took Pallas's arm once more. She was enthralled to be a part of the magic that was reputation and planned to stick near to him to spite any other who wanted to get close. Orphen rubbed his head lightly as the old man began to badger on about Pallas's name. He was slightly startled to see the look in his friend's eye. The swordsman seemed tired; weary even as he smiled at the growing attention. A crowd was drowning him but he still kept a smile and a wave.  
  
"They seem really happy to meet Pallas, master." Majic observed as he stepped next to Orphen. Thankful townsfolk were trying to work into the circle now to get a better glimpse of the Rune Fighter. Some mumbled about the silly girl who seemed to be his woman. Others asked about him saving the magistrate's nephew from the skeletons. Above all else, the spoke of his great name.   
  
High in one of the ancient spires was a figure who was not pleased with this. It was a great shadow, looming in the decrepit window of a once great tower. It was not human, for a pair of great wings sprouted from its back and thick horns grew from its head. It was something else, something dark and powerful. Two yellow eyes glared down at the group, most directly on the swordsman and the sorcerer. Things had not gone as planned and the reasoning was behind them both. Soon enough, all things would fall into place. That great name would fall and that sorcerer would die. Unless something managed to derail the catalyst, it was only a matter of time. 


	3. Altercations

The S and S of Calamity; Altercations  
  
  
  
  
  
In the wake of having such a famous hero in their town, the council of Okenforde decided to celebrate the liberation of their streets. It was a two-faced celebration; one side to honor the hero who had defeated the ancient ghouls which had invaded their solace and the other side to convince Pallas that he would be very happy living within the walls of prosperity. It was the act of every other town before.   
  
The town was glowing in defiance of the night, torches burning brightly on every wall and the main inn at the center of the town howling with the sounds of the city. Every person was present and filling the four stories with laughter, stories and joy. The drink had loosened everyone into masses of freed inhibitions and desires. It had become quite the night.  
  
Among the endless masses of drunken people, bawdy laughter and wry glances, Cleo was unbridled. The food and the drink had taken affect on her and she was having the time of her life. Aimlessly wandering through the crowds, she gracefully avoided groping hands, slurred invitations and catcalls. However, she was wallowing in this as much as anyone. "Hah! Let me tell you something, buddy! I've known Pallas for a long time and we've known each other a long time." she howled as she leaned heavily on the nearest person. The woman, who was a tad slicked up herself, looked drowsily to this young girl speaking on things that seemed important. Cleo waved her hand through the air a few times and grinned shrewdly, her nose already showing the slightest bits of red. "Psst, I wanna ask you somethun. I know you're a guy, but don't you think Pallas is really cute? The way he swings that big sword around and around and around and…" At this point, Cleo's wording took an odd affect on her and she felt very dizzy. Her arm slipped from around the girl's shoulder and she fell to her knees, a very colorful green masquerading as a blush. In the nearest pot, with little or no grace or modesty, she vomited. It was a very eventful night for Cleo.  
  
On the next floor down, Orphen and Majic were lounging at a table in the middle of a large dining hall. Majic was also a bit inebriated and was laying his head across his arm, his dulled eyes casting tentative glares down the table at the countless people around. With a spilled mug by his hand, he was mumbling the words to a song he had heard everyone singing as they started drinking. With so many loose spectacles and hanging morals, it was probably better that he was too blurry to notice. "This is a nice party, master. Everyone's laughing and singing and this stuff is really good." he noted while trying to get his hand onto his mug. All that mattered was that he was enjoying himself, though Orphen wasn't exactly in the same mindset as everyone else.   
  
The liquid in the mug was staring back at him with less mercy than what it gave to Majic. This little party was indeed a nice break, but something was bothering the sorcerer. The elder had spoken to him about the great shadow which had appeared in a few of the spires above the town, an ominous and looming form which had signaled the appearance of the skeletons. There was no doubt that whatever this form was, it was going to be Orphen's next battle. However, his train of thought was broken by the sounds of a tiny voice coming from the table by his arm.   
  
"Ahhh, what a party! Look at all those girls and their pretty hair! Iyaaaa, it's an imp's dream!"  
  
Casting his eyes past his mug, Orphen found Chiron leaning heavily forward on his arm and looking around with lustful eyes. In one of his clawed hands was a thimble full of the ale and he had obviously been drinking it. It seemed Orphen couldn't escape the drink even if he tried. With a smirk, he pulled his arm from under the imp and sent him sprawling on the table, cursing wildly at the move. The sorcerer leaned back a bit. "Don't tell me imps get drunk too. I thought you didn't like people."  
  
With a few ancient curses burning on his tongue, Chiron picked up his spilled thimble and then looked to the criminal. "I don't! But all this drink shouldn't go to waste. Besides, look at all the hair. So soft and shiny! Drunk girls are always the easiest to get close to!" the small creature replied and laughed devilishly. Upon inspection of his thimble, he yelled out in anger and then held a threatening claw at Orphen, the source of his troubles. "You moron! Now I need more! Go get me more drink or I'll thrash you limb from limb!"   
  
The threats weren't taken seriously and a sigh was the only response. However, Orphen pushed his mug to the imp and shook his head, "There, drink all you want. Maybe a cat will come by and think you're a mouse while you're drunk." The insult didn't get a chance to take affect. Chiron was soon upside down in the mug, filling his stomach with ale and sending himself into a state of sheer pleasure. That was the story of the entire evening. While Chiron was drowning in the mug, Orphen's brow rose and he looked around, realizing something he hadn't noticed before. "I wonder where Pallas is."  
  
In the midst of his wondering, he didn't hear Majic's mumbling. By now the boy had drifted to sleep, though his face was twisted with pain. His dreams were terrible and he was squirming lightly. Only one heard his soft whimpering in the depth of his nightmare. "No…Pallas…don't……Master…"  
  
On the top floor, outside the largest, nicest room the inn had to offer, Pallas stood. The party was raging on downstairs in his honor but he hadn't even gone. This was all just reasons for his temperament. His sword was leaning against the wall in the room, but the enchanted armor was still fastened to his arm. His intention of going to the party was denied by the fact he stood in his cloth pants only, letting the cool night breeze run across his shoulders and back. This was the kind of thing he looked forward to; a starlit night, summer's breeze and the sounds of the world a wall away. Once he had accused Orphen of changing, but he was no less guilty of that. Time had aged him. Even as he stared into the endless night, his eyes filled with nothing but the darkness. No stars could shine in his eyes now. Though he accepted this night, he never expected the dawn.  
  
"Pallas?"  
  
The voice made him sigh at first, assuming another girl had dared to brave his room for a chance to live forever. However, this was no ordinary girl. Cleo took a step into his room slowly, gazing about with much clearer eyes. She was still a bit hazy, but her stomach's choice had ultimately freed up some of her clouded mind. Now she was worried. "Are you in here, Pallas?" When her eyes caught him, she was a bit dumbfounded. This was a celebration for him and he was staying out of it. It caught her as strange and she pressed the door closed with her back. Leaning back against the door and staring at him gave her a little time to think, a brazen red growing from the flush from the drink. Perhaps she would have reconsidered this had she been completely sober, but she didn't know if she could say that in all honesty. She was in his room alone with him. This was something a girl was not supposed to do with someone she just met. However, there was this great sadness in his eyes when she looked at him, like the deepest part of him was in pain; suffering. The fact that he didn't acknowledge her also made this worse.  
  
After enough time, she pushed off the door and walked nimbly across his room, coming closer and closer to him. When she was close enough to see that he was shirtless, her heart stopped in her chest and she burned with embarrassment. It was as if she could go no farther.   
  
"Enjoying the party?" he asked without moving.  
  
His voice seemed to remind her that he was someone she actually knew and not this idol that all the girls were speaking of downstairs. Though her blush could not be forced away, she managed to find her voice well enough to answer. "Why aren't you down there? This is all for you."  
  
"This is all for the Rune Fighter of Baloria, not me." he replied dryly.   
  
Her face became contorted with confusion and she took another step towards him, tilting her head slightly at his answer. "I don't understand, Pallas." There was no answer, just the overwhelming silence which the night offered. With his silence, she found enough courage to venture out onto the balcony with him, letting the moonlight bathe her form with grace and beauty. Setting her hands on the rails, she watched him for any clue to his thoughts.  
  
He simply stared out at the night. For a while it was odd, his silence and her presence. A few times she considered leaving him alone, but she found no strength in moving. He was sad and he was beautiful. He was strong and he was vulnerable. He was passionate but he was distant. It was everything combined that made her want him.  
  
"Have you ever looked into the night and wondered if you close your eyes before the sun rises, would it be forever dark? Can I actually keep it nighttime just by closing my eyes?"   
  
The last part was spoken more to himself, but she was stunned by his question. It was one of those questions which had no answer, but was no less important. She was beginning to worry greatly again. "Even if you close your eyes, you'll still feel the sun, Pallas. It warms your skin and makes flowers grow. You can still smell flowers when you close your eyes, right?" she offered and hugged herself at the thought of flowers and sunshine. Her own eyes closed as she imagined a warm summer day on a hillside with Pallas, basking near a stream and intimately caressing his loving face. It made a small smile dominate her face.  
  
Pallas seemed a little estranged when he spoke, but her contribution made him smile a bit. It wasn't often that someone gave him an innocent answer. Standing straight, he looked to her slowly, "I guess you're right, Cleo. Even if we can't see it, the sun is always there."   
  
Breaking away from the pleasant dream, she looked up at him with that same smile. The party had been stripped from her memory along with Orphen, Majic and anything that had to do with anything. Only Pallas was allowed for this brief moment in time. In all that she had done before, she had never felt this way before. Even with a certain sorcerer, she felt like it was a stupid crush which would end up harming her someday. With Pallas, she felt like she could help him with this deep pain he felt. Some might call it love, but the word meant nothing as she stared up at him. Nothing could have aptly described what she felt towards this man she had only recently met.  
  
"Pallas?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Why are you always alone? Every time we get into a public place, you go somewhere by yourself. Don't you like all these people admiring you?"  
  
Her questions were slightly sharp to him, though his face didn't change within the confines of the moonlight. That which she spoke seemed to warm him and make his face soften. Even questions that seemed shallow and pointless came off her lips with a certain sincerity which caused him to adore her. However, the subject she had chosen was shadows and teardrops. "I'm glad my name can do some good in the world, but that name has grown larger than the man. When your own name eclipses you, you have to step back and decide which is the real you." he replied and let his shoulders rise and fall with the defeat in his tone. For some reason, he felt drained as he spoke, like the words pulled a part of him as they left and disappeared onto the breeze which swirled into nothing.   
  
The touch to his bare arm nearly startled him, then caused his attention to focus on the young girl at his mercy once again. Cleo's eyes were averted from him, as if she could not dare to look into his own with the night she wanted. Her fingers slowly pushed across his arm, feeling the random scar and memory engraved in his flesh. It was that flesh which drove her. The arm which obeyed the enchanted armor lay dormant at his side, though his fist had proven the actual level of the unknown she was introducing to the night. A moment passed where he simply stared down at her, his lips pressed and his eyes barely alive. In return, she only moved her hand across his arm and stared aimlessly at his midriff. The moment lasted as they both kept away, unsure of right or reason. It was only the uncontrollable beating in Cleo's chest which founded her move.  
  
The slender fingers which invaded his skin ran up along his bicep and shoulder, making breathless note of the deep scars and strained muscles which moved his sword. When the length of her arm became an issue, she simply stepped forward to the tall, broad body which loomed over her. Both hands began their assault across his body, sensually exploring every curve and live of the great fighter with a shaky advance that caused her hands to sometimes pause, though never retreat from him. Her eyes had closed, as if the body could only be appreciated by the touch only. A great burning sensation seared her face and the pure essence of what made her a girl. It was hard to stand still. Every muscle, tendon and bone was felt as she guided her fingers across his entire torso, her hands shaking and retreating from going any lower. By now her chest was pressing into him as she breathed heavier than she had ever breathed before. Her very body betrayed her and caused to her feel weak even as she only touched him. Breath came out across his skin as her nose brushed his chest, the tongue in her mouth unable to move in speech or action.  
  
Pallas was lost. He stared at this young girl which such different eyes than ever before. So many had attempted such seductions, but none had ever had such an affect on him. Hers was new, unsure and sincere, which were the founding stones of his permission. His body stayed still and loose as she pushed on, trying desperately to control what was burning inside of her.  
  
"You know not what you do, Cleo." he said in a breathless whisper. It didn't even faze her. The mind and the body were in harmony and his words only caused her to look up at him. This was the statement of her maturity, that she wasn't the stupid girl which only did things because of a selfish need for pleasure. Even without the drink, she had wanted this. No force alive could have changed what she felt for the swordsman and everything which made her a woman had led her to this.  
  
To answer, she simply kissed his skin with a tenderness which caused his eyes to close. She wouldn't back down now, even if he tried to warn her. She had made up her mind and she was going to give herself to him.  
  
The feeling of the cool bed on her skin caused a slight whimper to escape from her lips, but it was the separation of her lips which gave away her true intoxication. Even through her clothes, the feeling of a body settling between her legs caused every inch of her body to shudder and shake. Cleo had never felt such things come over her and it was all she could do to keep from begging this man to fulfill this desire she had for him. With the night air coming over her bare chest now, she was a fury of burning flesh. Pallas's touch and his lips over her body were forcing sounds from her that she had never heard before, much less from her own throat. As cloth fell from her body, her arms stretched out over her head and clawed at the sheets. The fire which was hottest at the crossroads of her legs was overwhelming and her bottom lip was bitten to keep the pleas from the air. Her hips shifted against him and her hands took out her frustration on the sheets until finally, the name of whom she wanted came bursting from her lips in a single, wrenching moan.  
  
"Orphen…"  
  
All time froze as one eye was revealed in latent moonlight, wide and broken with the name. All that could be expected from such a turn was told in that eye and the owner quaked a moment across the bed. It took Cleo a moment to realize that her body was being neglected, that the one source of her pleasure had suddenly become absent. As she finally got enough wit back to focus on the room, she noticed that it was void of anyone besides herself. Even the great sword was missing from the place along the wall. Still heaving and trying to focus her mind, Cleo sat up and pulled her shirt over a shoulder, still panting in an effort to catch up. The heat of the moment had drowned out her sin, so the sudden disappearance of Pallas came as a bit of a surprise. With skin flushed like a peach, Cleo looked to the open window and bit her lower lip. A thousand questions attacked her but her mind could not slow to address them. The night held all answers.  
  
  
  
  
  
The ruins provided a needed relief for those evading life. The plants grew over the scars of the past and hid the true structure of the lost buildings, giving the place and unholy green glow in the depths of the night. It was the one place where the Rune Fighter of Baloria could go before he unleashed his malcontent on the world. Standing tall on a crumbling tower, he stood with his sword sheathed in hand, his chin lifted and his eyes cast out into the night. There was no loss in a pride that was beaten under the tongues of others, so his face was cold as ever. The night air cooled his skin and the sweat became like ice across his body, reminding him just why the night was forsaken to the lover. But in the furthest depths of his eyes, there was a dire pain lingering on his every breath.  
  
Within an instant, the sword was taken a quarter from the scabbard and the swordsman turned a sharp eye to the darkness behind him where a great shadow loomed. The source of all the evil which befell the town stared out with red eyes, still unmoving towards this man. Pallas stared a moment with a great eye, then slowly sheathed the blade and stood slack. "It's unwise to sneak up like that. I may take your head the next time."  
  
A throaty voice called back with an unnatural amount of respect for the swordsman, "Forgive me, Pallas, but time runs short. I want the sorcerer's power. Let me eat his bones and chew his flesh." Pallas turned his eye from the beast and stared out into the night, portraying his night over and over again. For the longest time, he did not answer the beast, as if some great thing pulled at his mind and threatened to rip the ground out from under him. The beast seemed to be restless and stirred, which only made Pallas seem more ominous to the night.  
  
"Soon. Tomorrow will be the day a name changes forever. Tomorrow, you may eat the bones of Orphen and digest his power. He'll never see it coming."   
  
The foul plan was spoken with no regret or thought of any kind. Friendships and love were just things to be admired in their time and then be thrown against the rocks when the time came. Pallas had learned that this night. Looking wistfully at the enchanted armor on his arm, the light reflected caused his eyes to seem sad and empty, just as his heart had become. The beast lingered a moment and caught its master's attention. The words were far more devious than before. "The young boy has seen our deeds. He will warn the sorcerer." Pallas instantly knew exactly what this problem meant and slowly looked across the valley to the lighted city. Now light gave him no beauty, only a putrid darkness which consumed his entire face. Majic's interference would not do. It was far too easy for Pallas to speak the next order.  
  
"Then kill him." 


	4. Culminations

The S & S of Calamity; Culminations  
  
Okenforde was a town on the edge of calamity when it woke up that morning. The thick, orange rays of a morning sun would do much to hide the coming tribulations; a porcelain mask covering a scarred scowl. A cool breeze brought everyone to the day and dusted the night of fun and fire from everyone's mind, whether that be a thing for memory or regret. Lives were quickly being put back onto the road and people began to fill the streets with story and greeting.  
  
This day would bring new pain and misery to Orphen. Waking from his perch in a lush chair which had beckoned him in the later bowels of the evening, a stretched yawn was enough to break Majic from his slumber as well. Where Orphen was waking into just a normal day, Majic was waking to a stampede in his head and a tornado in his stomach. He made quite the groan as he sat up.  
  
"Oh, what happened? What's ringing so loud?"  
  
Orphen idly watched a few of the last patrons of the party leaving to their homes or their jobs, then he settle a smirk onto Majic and stood, his hands resting on his hips candidly and a flat tone coming in over the ringing Majic was hearing. "Is Majic having problems with a hangover? I tried to tell you not to drink that stuff. I guess now you'll be more careful at town parties, won't you?"  
  
Majic's face shifted a few colors and he weakly stood, though the world wasn't cooperating and he swayed like a sickly weed in a breeze. Though he was looked rather awake and alert, he barely heard the suggestion Orphen gave him. It took a second time to grasp the idea and find the merit in it. "I think I will go for a walk." he replied and walked towards the cool breeze sneaking into the inn from the large front doors. Just as the boy was making his way outside, Cleo was unsurely coming down the stairs from the upstairs rooms, her face pale and jaded from a combination of lack of sleep and crying.   
  
Orphen was a bit puzzled as he watched her. Her usually chipper face was weighted down by something, as if she had dreamt of sins and shadows for the better part of the night. The fact was she hadn't slept at all. After Pallas had suddenly disappeared from the room, feelings of rejection and heartbreak had consumed her and lead her to wet his bed sheets with her tears of why. Lingering on the last step, she looked at Orphen with a sort of betrayed sense of guilt, though she couldn't exactly describe what she was feeling at the moment. She would have given herself to Pallas that night, but some great force of the world had pushed a wall between them and left her alone. Now she felt a little stupid looking at Orphen in the morning, though her true atrocity was lost with the ears of the one she had hoped to love.  
  
"Looks like you had quite the night too. Last time I saw you, you were fertilizing one of those plants with your dinner." Orphen said, breaking the stare with one of his arrogant smirks. She didn't respond a moment, but soon found some of herself in the morning air.  
  
"I don't know what you mean. It must have been someone else."  
  
Soon enough she walked to him with the standard edge in her voice. A girl hurt and scared could be far more dangerous than any sword or spell, if only for the emotion aloft right under the surface. Orphen was oblivious to the entire evening, for hearing of her intimacy with Pallas might have put him in a grayer place, though that road would not be crossed so quickly after it was paved.   
  
He simply laughed a bit and stretched again, turning to peer out the window and make plans for the day. The shadow would be found on that day, he predicted, though he had no true sense just how deep the shadow went. Cleo's face was pale again, her eyes looking aimlessly at the ground for some kind of clue as to what had happened. In some sense, she felt she had to tell Orphen about it, though she didn't want to. What if he simply shrugged and didn't care? That would mean her crush really was stupid and all of her feelings would be lost under the name of Azalie. However, if it revealed some kind of feelings on his part, that meant she would have to deal with her want for Orphen and Pallas, which was something she didn't want to even face at the moment. It was just too hard for her.   
  
As she looked up to him, a desperate confession burned on her tongue and threatened to burst out on the top of her lungs. She may have even done so, if not for the man rushing in with panic and travel on his face. The sorcerer was the first person he ran to and he quickly began yelling and pointing. "Your little friend has been taken by the great shadow! It swept down and carried him off towards the old ruins outside of town!"   
  
Both Orphen and Cleo were struck by the news and instantly knew that it was Majic who had been taken. With foreseen terror in his eyes, Orphen quickly looked around for the innkeeper. The pudgy man was just walking by when a foray of demands were barked out by the sorcerer. "You! Go tell Pallas that I need him downstairs!" Knowing that he had come into town with Pallas, the keeper quickly went up the stairs to do that very thing. However, in the fury of his thoughts of helping Majic, Orphen nearly missed hearing Cleo speak in a reserved tone.  
  
"Pallas isn't up there. He's already gone."  
  
It took a moment to get him to take a break, but he soon looked to Cleo with a shocked expression. The reason she knew this was something which confused him, though the fact she was looking away with a very defensive look on her face gave him a pretty good idea. The reasons for her knowing that Pallas wasn't in his room early in the morning weren't as important as finding Majic, so he shrugged off her little bit of knowledge and looked out the window once more, seeing the distant rise of the ruins where they had met Pallas. "Hopefully, we see him then. Whatever this thing is, I get the feeling it's not going to be nice or weak."   
  
The greens which had overgrown the ruins may have given the stone a softer appearance, but the reality of the stairs were something of a different sort as Majic rolled down them. Sprawling at the bottom, a groan escaped him while the shadow which had been plaguing the town landed soundlessly at the top, glaring down upon the young boy with two burning eyes and claws that could shred stone and flesh. His walk had turned into a nightmare when the shadow had taken him, revealing the shadow was really a fearsome beast that bested any in his nightmares, and already began to abuse him. Sitting back onto his hands, he began to slide backwards across the ancient floor and away from the beast's glare. Inside, he was bleeding fear and desire for his master to save him just as he was bleeding blood and tears on the outside.   
  
All that came to a stop when he felt the foot of someone behind him. Eyes bathed in pure terror widened as the thoughts of bandits or rapists filled his mind. So many perils in the world could harden young boys such as himself, though he had remained quite innocent in the face of it all. No peril could have compared to what he saw over his shoulder.  
  
"P-Pallas? Is it you?" With a foolish sense of relief coming over him, his hands were quickly grabbing at his pants and he smiled, despite all the warning signs he had seen so far. All that he cared about right then was Pallas's sword and his reputation of helping people. What he found was Pallas looking down at him with a malevolent gleam in his eye. Majic was oblivious, "I'm so glad to see you!"  
  
"Why?"  
  
The single word, spoken with a level of fierceness that struck Majic nearly from his legs, broke through any false sense of hope and introduced the boy to the reality of his situation. With stuttering words on his lips, Majic stood before Pallas and began to back away, his eyes reflected a truly terrible beast in them, far more than the black shadow which had come down the stairs behind him. Pallas lifted his chin slightly and snorted, as if truly disgusted with the boy. "Am I obligated to rescue the world? Where is it written that I must help the weak and the oppressed? I'm sick of your expectations of me. The mighty Rune Fighter of Baloria dies today; I'll bury him right next to you and your master."   
  
It was startling to see just how ferocious Pallas truly was, when the sun was glowing across his shoulders and his weighted brow cast shade over his dulled eyes. He held the makings of a villain, just as he held the makings of a hero. The line that defined them was so thin that a title could be mistaken just as easily as looking at a figure standing before a setting sun. Majic's philosophical journey would be cut short, however, as his backing from the man had brought him into something even more startling. A searing pain was piercing his back, making him look to the heavens with an enlightened sense of life. The great shadow was looming around him with a great hand against his back. Two claws, resembling two knives, were impaled through his back and making two wetting points on his shirt cool on the breeze. Majic had never felt something so obscure, but it caused his fear to well in him. Death would be a shadow greater than any beast, but he was far from accepting that. Even through the soft laughing of the beast, he waited for Orphen to come to his rescue and slay all of his foes. That was his one hope.  
  
His hope was sadly late.  
  
"Have your fun with him, but don't let the sorcerer see him. There's nothing more formidable than a vengeful fool." Pallas said to the side as he started away from the scene. The beast idly licked some of Majic's blood from his claws and held the boy aloft, just to further the taste of the sweet liquid. Just before Pallas left, he turned to the beast and rested a hand across the hilt of his enchanted sword. Somehow, he seemed less fearsome once more. "Chiron, I have one last order for you." The beast, which abruptly stopped it's tasting, looked to him across waning shadows and chill. Pallas closed his eyes and spoke softly, as if his words drained him.   
  
"Don't touch the girl."  
  
With that, Pallas disappeared into the ruins and left Majic staring weakly after him. With a beastly laugh, Chiron, the imp which accompanied Pallas in his docile form, but now served his purpose in an imp's true form, gripped Majic's neck and leaned in close, speaking in a far deeper, more distorted voice than the boy remembered. "Isn't love grand?" The ghastly laugh filled the ruins once more as Majic was left to the mercy of him.  
  
Orphen and Cleo were frantically trying to find Majic within the endless confines of the ruins. Something stale was holding strong in the air and it caused Orphen to feel a little bit more frantic about the beast than would be typically warranted. As much as Orphen hid it, he did care what happened to Majic, just as he cared what happened to Cleo. The thought of his apprentice being thrashed to pieces didn't appeal to him, so he was a tad worked up in thoughts of blood and spoils.   
  
Coming to a clearing in the ruins, perhaps a lost ballroom in a forgotten kingdom, the sorcerer looked around for a sign of either his apprentice or his quarry, but found nothing. Something inside was telling him that they were close, so he played an instinct which would keep the other he cared for away from sharp claws and grinning teeth. "Cleo, stay here while I find Majic." he huffed and eyed the small dragon which was clinging to her. She would be okay, as long as she wasn't in the way when he found the shadow.   
  
Cleo protested with a face equally full of concern, fully intent on freeing Majic as well, but the look she received from Orphen made her disposition a little less passionate. "I can help too, Orphen." she lulled and clutched Leki in front of her. The sorcerer had a strange look on his face, though whether it was for the morning's circumstances or the future events, she wasn't sure. In the end, his tone warded her from following, at least for a little while.  
  
"Not this time, Cleo. Stay here. I'll be back with Majic."  
  
Soon enough he was dashing through the ruins again, this time alone, and intent on making a thrilling rescue of his weaker apprentice. Cleo huffed a moment, finding a toppled pillar to sit on and hug Leki to her chest. Even though these moments were dire, she couldn't help but wonder where Pallas had gone. What would he say when she saw him again? Would he explain his reason for leaving? A thousand questions went through her mind, but no answers were there. This had the potential to be either the greatest love story she could dream of or the most tragic mistake in her heart. That was, perhaps, the reason her heart hadn't slowed since she first met him.   
  
It wasn't five minutes before Leki began to perk in her arms, sensing some great evil afoot and naturally becoming a bit protective. With a squirm, the little dragon was running to another part of the ruin; a cove of sorrow from which a deep laugh was coming. "Leki! Come back!" howled Cleo and followed, unaware that she was stumbling onto a scene which would haunt her forever.  
  
"Pallas!"  
  
The voice was very startling as it broke the morning air. The swordsman had been casually leaning against a ruin when the sorcerer had come sprinting out of the mist, causing him to look upon his friend with slightly jaded eyes. However, he didn't even stumble as he watched the sorcerer run up, a face full of worry. "That's my name."  
  
For some reason, it seemed like a very strange way to answer, but Orphen shrugged it off and came to a halt a few feet in front of his friend. There was something different in his eyes, Orphen thought, and something looming about his person. However, there was business to be handled first. "I'm glad I found you. That shadow that's been bothering Okenforde has taken Majic and it's somewhere in these ruins. I could really use your help finding him, Pallas." he said, dismissing all suspicion to years of friendship.  
  
Pallas watched him coolly the entire time, not letting on truth or tale. It was ironic and Pallas would have laughed, but that was not in his character. "Is that so? What if he's already dead?" Pallas replied and leaned off of the ruin. The idea wasn't something that Orphen liked to imagine, so the words hit him like a stone. Pallas was indeed acting strange, thought he could hide it rather well. "It's a possibility, Orphen. I can't believe you've gotten so sappy. He's just a boy." the swordsman continued and came to stand right in front of the sorcerer. It was an unofficial duel in which two lives of unending trials would be set sword to spell, even before any true battle would begin. It was the last time Orphen would see his old friend through eyes not burning in hate and fear, for quickly enough, another figure joined them.  
  
"I knew you'd come if I took your apprentice, sorcerer. So predictable, you creatures of false magic are."   
  
The voice was serrated, catching Orphen's attention and breaking his growing concerns over how Pallas was acting. What he found when he turned was Chiron, though a far cry from the little imp obsessed with the hair of maidens that he remembered. The daylight finally caught the true practicality in the imp's form, from the long, curved claws still stained with red tears, the flawless collection of muscle and scale which allowed survival for the non-human and his demonic face, now horned and scaled around two eyes of glowing red. Orphen could barely believe it, but he knew that it was Chiron.   
  
"Chiron!? You're the shadow that's been attacking the town!" he yelled out, nearly in disbelief. Too many things ran through his head to turn and question Pallas about it, but such a question probably would have saved him some surprise. Standing behind Orphen, Pallas's hand was resting on his sword, a mere breath away from striking out and ending the legend of Orphen with a single blow. The ease of such a deed was, perhaps, the factor in his hand being stayed. Despite all the clouds which had filled Pallas's vision and turned him into the warlord that he was now, some powerful thing inside of him left his war-torn arm to leave the Salt Abbey sword in its scabbard.   
  
Chiron, however, had no predispositions of humanity in him. He wasn't human. "You are also fooled too easily by appearances. It's no matter now. Soon, I'll crunch your bones and absorb your magical powers, sorcerer, and restore some order to the world of magic." the demon said and ran a black tongue over sharp teeth. There was war flowing through his veins and this being of myth and legend had it out for Orphen. A lilac aura began to radiate from Chiron as pure, natural magic began to swell inside of him, showing this false idol just what the realities of the world was.   
  
Orphen's body tightened with advance and his face began bare. A gray Pallas stood within a strike of him, his deception lost amidst Orphen's fear and concern. This wouldn't be like his other fights, even those with his bane, Bloody August. Chiron was born in magic and brutally soaked with it. No sandbagging would be allowed if he was to fend away the gorgon. With determination and resolve, the sorcerer prepared his array of attack and spell, ready to prove once again that he was not to be taken lightly.  
  
Tragically, Chiron was still only the pawn before the king. 


	5. Conclusions

The S & S of Calamity; Conclusions  
  
The ancient ruin had been void of life for hundreds of years it seemed. Pewter stone had been overtaken by the lives of a thousand plants, weaving a lattice over forgotten tales and tragedies. It was the kind of setting which pulsed serenity. Rays of the sun bathed the area in warmth and a warm wind cast reeds into a symphony of sound and motion, as if some great play were unfolding before no audience in particular. Scholars and artists could search their entire lives and never fully represent what this place had become.  
  
Such beauty did not remain in the world. A solitary ruin came crashing down into a heap while another form eluded the stones. Once more this place became scarred by the hands of the living and was being reborn into something new and profane. Orphen quickly got his bearings after evading the last attack but stared across the rubble which lay behind him. It could have been his tomb. Death was not yet ready to take him.  
  
"My guide is the death-calling starling!"  
  
The blast of magical energy rippled through the air toward Chiron, but the imp had a small surprise waiting for the sorcerer. Hopping into the air, Chiron suddenly became a missile and darted right towards Orphen and his blast of energy. Those two powerful wings wrapped around him before impacting the attack and, much to Orphen's dismay, Chiron slipped effortlessly through the attack and out the other side. Once in range, Chiron's wings burst open to reveal a malicious shriek, accompanied by a thrusting claw. Orphen had only time to leap to the side before Chiron decimated the ruin below him, sending up a geyser of dirt and stone.  
  
Orphen's breath came out a bit forced as he looked at the damage all while considering Chiron's ease of escape. "My attack didn't even affect him. Who knew an imp would be so resistant to magic attacks?" he whispered to himself and watched Chiron stand straight.   
  
The imp raised his perilous claw into a taunting position and stood poised to deliver more punishment. An expression of arrogance played across his demonic face. "You humans handle magic so carelessly. It's a wonder your kind even know how to use magic at all. You're pathetic." he snarled and the fiery aura of magic on his skin began to flicker and swirl. Although Orphen suspected an attack, Chiron was too fast when he used a magical blast without any kind of incantation. The only reason Orphen was able to survive such an attack was his activation of a defense shield, though even at his full strength, the blast still shattered his shield and sent his body back into a decrepit wall.   
  
Orphen had made an impression in the stone and fell to his knees, leaning heavily onto his hands and watching a splatter of blood fall with each of his breaths. The metallic taste of blood shocked his senses and warned him just how dire this battle was, but this gave him a moment of thought. Why hadn't Pallas jumped in to help him, like he had done so many times before? Had he even moved since the fight started? Was he testing him to see if he had really softened up? Even Pallas knew when to stop a fight and help a friend. However, there was no sign of him so far.   
  
"Though I am surprised your defensive magic was able to block that, no amount of defensive magic will save your from my claws. When I get my claws on you, I'm going to eat your hands first to suck all of the magic out of them. Then I'm going to eat your black heart, sorcerer. I hope you exercise often…I'm trying to watch my figure!"  
  
Chiron's sense of humor had trickled into his true form, just as it was so potent in his docile one. A shrill laughter followed the gruesome intentions and the sound of shifting weight on large claws. Orphen could barely see Chiron's position but he knew that there was another charge in store. This time, he wouldn't be able to avoid those lethal claws.   
  
The idea of dying in this place, with no one he cared about around him and before he was able to save his beloved Azalie, did not sit well with him. His body racked with pain but he had still not been injured that much. His magic attacks did not penetrate Chiron's defense but there were other ways of eluding defense. Orphen was not one to take his own death on his knees. As Chiron lunged forward to tear the sorcerer to pieces, Orphen's hand began to glow slightly as his lips let out a quiet incantation.  
  
"Blade of Satan, whom I call forth…"  
  
Chiron's senses had tweaked at the culmination of magic, but it was too late to react. Orphen's crouched position gave him a perfect platform to lunge forward, a glowing sword of magic at his fingers, and meet the imp in mid-air. A shriek sounded through the ruins and Orphen landed on the ground with his back facing Chiron. The imp, a creature so infused with magic and arrogant as to its nature, stood but a moment before bursting into green flames and incinerate. Chiron had fallen.  
  
Cleo had no control as she worked furiously to tear her dress. Stains of blood already ruined her innocent face and tears ran dark trails down her cheeks to fall like raindrops onto Majic's bloody face. Cleo had found him being assaulted by some fearsome creature, a black shadow which was ready to feed on the young boy. With no fear or consequence, she had called out and ran to stop him, unaware that the foe she sought to halt was nothing she could handle. Even Leki had been reduced to a parade of bluffs, though the small dragon had ran in right next to the blinded girl.   
  
To her shock, the creature took one look at her and disappeared into the air, leaving a badly wounded Majic in her care. Now, as she tried to bandage all of Majic's wounds with fabric from her dress, her tear became hatful towards two she hated loving so much. Where are you Orphen? Pallas? Why didn't you help him?! Why does he have to be so bloody!  
  
A shriek shattered the morning air and startled Cleo, making her stop to cover her ears and be confronted with her own whimpering. Only after her hair became stained with Majic's blood and her ears recovered from the frightening howl did she open her eyes and look at Majic with cleared eyes. "I have to find Orphen. Only he can heal you." she said in a frantic tone while trying to lift Majic's arm up over her shoulder. Her lithe form provided little strength to haul around another, but the situation gave her uncanny strength and helped her lift him. In the direction of the howling, she looked with beauty which pierced the chaos around her. All she could think of was being saved.  
  
"Pallas…Orphen…"  
  
Sound was a relative thing. A dying imp was able to release a cry that could deafen an entire city and still be nothing but a whisper in comparison to what Orphen heard next. Applause. The sound of Pallas's hands clapping together popped in his ears and seemed to shake the foundation of the ruins themselves. It was the realization that Orphen had not yet fought the true villain of Okenforde, but merely the pawn. His true nemesis had been watching the battle all along.  
  
"I knew you had it in you, Orphen. Chiron was something which was born in magic, but he was too arrogant and his foresight was going to kill him someday. I'm not surprised that it was you who did it though. Not even I had the heart to kill him. You truly are a mystic of the black arts."  
  
Pallas's voice had taken on a completely new life of its own and Orphen could find no semblance of his friend in it. Standing straight after defeating Chiron, Orphen faced Pallas for the first time with the realization of his true intent. Pallas appeared the exact same to him, but only now he was an enemy. That was something which Orphen found hard to swallow. "Why are you doing this, Pallas? What happened to you?"  
  
To respond to that question, Pallas gripped the hilt of his sword and slowly pulled it from his scabbard. The sound made Orphen wince. Pallas held the sword with both hands in front of him, looking at the blade as if it were a representation of his very existence. There was affection and hatred for this sword, but Pallas only spoke sincerely as his voice defied nature and remained whole around its blade. "Do you know how the Salt Abbey sword was created, Orphen? Do you know why it contains the power that it does?" Pallas asked without expecting any kind of response. Orphen knew of these tactics, for Pallas had used them many times before. The swordsman could hold a casual conversation while facing dozen of armed guards and it was like a pebble being thrown into a pond. Ripples of doubt and fear would move through the enemy until Pallas could utilize his attacks to destroy them. Now Orphen found himself on the receiving end of this brutal tactic.   
  
"There was a religious convent located at the shore of a great salt lake. The monks who lived in this place were great craftsmen and used their skills to build weapons, machines and anything else someone could afford. The glitter of gold was more sacred than any god they knew. Well, you see, one day they were contracted to build a very special sword. The buyer was a famous warlord. His name was Enki."  
  
Orphen's face had frozen at the name which was spoken and Pallas's reaction to it caused him to smile slightly. "I see you've heard of him. Yes, Orphen, it was this sword which was the heart of Daikuro's empire. You see, the reason it wields such a power is because of how Enki took possession of it." Orphen felt a wave of uneasiness wash over him as Pallas's right eye was obscured by the blade, leaving him to focus on a single tunnel into his friend's lost mind. Pallas held the sword ceremonially in front of him.  
  
"It took three years for the monks to create this sword. They imported steel and other metals from all over the word to create it. With the mountain of gold Enki promised them, they felt any sacrifice necessary. Unfortunately for them, they did not know what kind of man Enki was. The convent was tragically burned down by the very forge which made this sword. Every one of the monks died. You can imagine the betrayal they felt as they burned to death within their own mill. You see, even impious monks have a sort of agreement with magic and the unknown. To repay Enki for his treachery, the monks' souls saturated this sword, which Enki named Salt Abbey as an ironic touch, and thus it has become something of great power of which you already know."  
  
Orphen stared at the blade of Pallas's sword with a trembling fist, mostly because the truth of that story perfectly described the sword's power. However, he also knew now how Pallas came across the sword and why he was acting the way he was now. "Since you were the one who stopped Enki, you took the sword from him. Pallas, I know what happened to you. I know what that sword does to their owners!" he called out in an effort to save his friend. Pallas laughed darkly as his eyes reflected his own admission.  
  
"Drives them insane? How do you think I was able to stop the mighty Enki when he held such a powerful sword? The poor fool was in a fit when I found him at Baloria. He had slaughtered his own generals and was working on his harem of courtiers when I broke the lines. As grand as the stories say, all I did was run at him with my sword. He was too crazy to even defend himself. After I had ran my sword through him, the old man laughed at me and shoved his sword in my hands. Now I see just how cruel he was." Pallas quipped lightly and chuckled a bit more. With the truth coming out, Orphen was determined to keep his friend from serving the same fate, but Pallas was not to let it be.   
  
With a swish of his sword, readying it at his side, the tall swordsman stifled a few more moments of laughter from his lips and seemed to give up on himself. "At this point, friend, I don't care anymore. Call me insane if you like. The name I made for myself when I got this damn sword now haunts me everywhere I go. There really is only one way to break my name." he said with a tone that made Orphen open his stance as well. "I'm going to bury it!" The charge wasn't surprising, but Orphen still had a problem with the entire fight. Not only did he not want to fight Pallas due to their friendship, but also because that Salt Abbey sword was something to be outright respected as a weapon.   
  
Orphen somehow knew Pallas was dragging a bit, for he was able to evade the slash with little effort and roll to his side. What he saw, however, did nothing to encourage his quest to save Pallas. A line now appeared in the wall he had previously been thrown into by Chiron, but it wasn't the line which was of interest. Soon the top half of the ruin came crashing down onto itself and created yet another pile of debris; a scar upon a once beautiful scene. In front of this pile, Pallas stood straight and slung his sword across his shoulder, taunting Orphen with every laugh. "That one was for old time's sake, Orphen. Get serious about this fight or I will make sure they bury you in two pieces."  
  
"We don't have to fight, Pallas. If you get rid of that sword, you'll be able to be normal again. It's what is making you do this!"  
  
"Is that supposed to surprise me? You're not the one who can feel the voices pulsing behind your eyes. You're not the one who feels your skin burn whenever another living creature is near. You're not the one who hears the name of your friend on the lips of your lover!" Pallas raged and pulled his sword to his side again. This time, there was no room for friendship in his attack and Orphen knew it. None of the words registered with him as Pallas meant, but that confession was meant for one person alone.  
  
"Orphen!" a voice called out and broke the pace of the battlefield. While both knew who it was, merely by the melodic tones and sweet breath, Orphen was the only poor fool who reacted to it. Cleo paid the price.  
  
With a deafening slash, Cleo watched Orphen arch backwards into the air, his blood spraying into the air like a mist and his body wrenching violently upon a pile of rubble behind him. As if this sight wasn't cruel enough, it was the swordsman whom she had been searching for that had delivered the blow. Her mouth was hanging open, her eyes wide in confusion and her body trembled from the sheer force of the scene. Pallas had struck Orphen down coldly and remained in his final position, his head tucked down into his shoulder slightly and a single eye piercing the air to her. Breath was no friend to her. The air was putrid to her tongue and even existing in the same world where someone she respected, admired and even loved could do such a thing caused her throat to seize. Orphen was not moving. Majic was still a load on her shoulder. Despite the red mist settling over the ruins and the heavy weight on her, all she could do was stare at Pallas.  
  
Soon, Pallas stood straight before his prey and faced her, bringing all of her fears to a single point that she could not deny as truth. The one man she had committed her body to had now just slain her Orphen and most certainly had something to do with Majic's attack. Pallas seemed like a statue before her, looking down with a bland expression on his face. There was no reading anything in his eyes now, just a dark library of hate and pain.  
  
"Pallas…"  
  
With the name, Majic was let to the ground at her side with no movement from her. Her senses had been overcome with emotion and she only stared like a doll, empty and helpless. Pallas commanded her with cut strings; defined her with every blink of his eye. She felt she could not do anything against him, even as two of her dearest friends lie bleeding on the stone. When Pallas finally spoke, her heart raced and faltered in her chest. "I would never hurt you, Cleo. Even as my mind spins out of control, my heart belongs to you." he spoke in a quiet tone; at the same time, raising his hand into the air for her to take, betraying all that she had seen there and forgive everything he had ever done. Since the moment she had met him, this moment had been in her dreams. His love had been real, for it explained why she was the only one left unharmed and why he was able to appear so alluring to her now. It was a trance he put her in. Against all expectations outside of her heart, her foot moved forward.   
  
"Pallas…" another voice called and severed the trance she was in. Leki had moved to Orphen's side and had woken him from his presumed death. The sorcerer was now wearing a long gash down his chest and stomach, but the wound was superficial and only bleeding from outside his vital organs. Orphen knew that the slash would have halved him, of not for Pallas's name being called to their ears. Even in the last moment before the sword cut his skin, he saw a change in Pallas's face. Things were becoming clear to him.   
  
When she heard him speak, Cleo rushed to Orphen's side and panicked over him, seeing the blood on his clothes and the weakness in his face. It was that moment that Pallas understood and lowered his hand, the opposite clenching around the bane of his greatness. A thousand memories of his life began to flow through his mind, reminding him off all of the good he had done. The fanfare of thousands of people rang in his ears and the smiles of small boys everywhere clouded his eyes. The Rune Fighter of Baloria had been a person who had accomplished much in his life and could rest easy knowing that he had made a difference in the world. Sadly, the man simply known as Pallas would not be remembered for anything, but merely as a side note next to a bold name in history books. That was the tragedy which had polluted his mind.   
  
All the while he was reminiscing, the hilt of the Salt Abbey sword was clinking against other metal, providing a sort of rhythm that would be his last moments. When metal broke free of skin, the warm wind which had been so complacent to them before now blew cool across forgotten flesh. The time was approaching and Pallas smiled to himself. At least he was going to end the Rune Fighter's legend with a grand spectacle.  
  
Cleo had come to terms with herself once again and was frantically trying to explain what had happened to Majic. Orphen was groggy, but he was working his way to sit up and fight back the pain rising in his chest. He was the first to look at Pallas and stop. Cleo was quick to follow.   
  
Pallas held the enchanted armor which had been his protection from magical attacks in his free hand, looking at Orphen and Cleo together as it all things had conspired against him. The meaning of his actions was lost on Cleo, for she could only fight her inner desires, but Orphen new exactly how serious this was. Pallas was granting a final victory to him. "I guess this is the end of the path for me, Orphen. I really couldn't handle the sword as well as you thought I could. It seems fitting that this is how it ends." Pallas lulled and tossed the armor into the air. With a single stroke of the Salt Abbey sword, Pallas shattered his only defense against a magical foe. The shards of the armor fell to the ground at his feet and the swordsman took one last stance. Orphen clenched his teeth while Cleo looked oblivious to the entire thing.  
  
"Don't do this, Pallas. I can't…"  
  
"I'm not giving you a choice, Orphen. You're wounded, as is your little friend. You need to heal the both of you, but you know I won't allow that. To save your friend, you have to, it's as simple as that."  
  
"Pallas…"  
  
"Take good care of her. Even when she was mine, she still called your name. I guess it's the fate of all fools to die this way; alone and smiling. Either way, she can't love both of us!"  
  
No other words were allowed. Pallas made his final charge at Orphen, wielding the cursed sword into a powerful thrust. Orphen was completely torn at this, but his hand began to rise. All the while, Cleo stared in disbelief. In one beautiful moment, she realized just what was going to happen and made a passionate attempt to stop it. Pallas was lunging forward with a sword tip aimed for Orphen's heart while Orphen began to recite the incantation for a powerful magic spell. Cleo grabbed Orphen's arm but could not stop it. All she could do was scream out the name of Pallas, echoing the heartbreak she felt at his decision to end this in the manner he did and also proclaim that she really did love him.  
  
Sound abandoned the ruins as Orphen's magic focused the air between them. Even though Orphen's eyes were narrowed and betrayed by tears, Pallas was smiling the entire time. Just before the point of the Salt Abbey sword was able to pierce his heart, Orphen's spell erupted into Pallas. While the cries of Cleo filled a silent sky, Pallas's body was flung backwards like a doll and broken by the spell. The Salt Abbey sword was sent spinning into the sky, abandoning its owner to the tortures of death as a testament to its treacherous existence. There was no remorse on the face of Pallas; just a complacent smile as his body crashed into the last tower which stood in the ruin.   
  
The attack was not powerful enough to kill a man, as Orphen had intended, so Cleo had pushed herself off the ground to save Pallas. However, Orphen caught her hand and winced when she jerked him, the wound still sapping all of his strength. Cleo was beside herself. "Let me go, Orphen! Pallas! I have to help Pallas!" she howled in tears and reached out for him. Time, once more, had been the enemy. The decrepit tower needed only this small quake to come down onto itself, showering a cold death onto a motionless form. Pallas soon became nothing but the resident of a rocky tomb, completely with headstone as the Salt Abbey sword fell to earth to mourn its owner. Impaling itself in a large stone directly over Pallas's last resting place, it served as a tribute to the man it had destroyed and betrayed its creation.   
  
Cleo broke free from Orphen and rushed to the grave, still possessed with her love for Pallas. When her hand moved to touch a stone, the Salt Abbey sword began to glow, warning her as an intruder not to disturb its master's resting place. As a final act of retribution for eroding Pallas's mind, the sword now became a guardian to his tomb, even to the point of severing his connection of love in the world. Cleo's hand was stunned by a pulse from the sword and she recoiled, holding the pain within her hand as nothing compared the wrenching feeling in her heart.   
  
"Pallas!" she wept and fell to her knees, being nothing but a spot before the pile of massive stones. This had ended in the worst possible way for her; Pallas lie dead under a mass of stone which she could not approach and her legacy to him lay somewhere in her midnight confession he spoke of. It was excruciating, this love she had.  
  
Orphen had been quick to move to Majic, using the little magic he could muster to stabilize him and halt the bleeding of his heart. Though he was drained, both physically and emotionally at killing his close friend, there was more at stake than mourning now. He had to help Majic. Lifting the small boy onto his shoulder, Orphen looked to Cleo with dead eyes. This had also ended badly for him, for only now did he appreciate what was between Cleo and Pallas and, as a cruel fact of the matter, it was he that had killed the man she loved. The fates had a sick sense of humor. "Cleo…"  
  
"Don't come near me!" she howled at him, but could not face him. Orphen winced a bit, but couldn't move to save his ailing friend. The sobs of the young girl were deep, bringing much more to the surface than just her loss of love. Soon, her sobbing voice began to impact him. "I would have gone to him. Even though Majic would have died, I would have gone with him! Why did this have to happen?!" she wailed and buried her hands in her face, unable to face the truth which she had brought upon herself. Orphen's voice was of little comfort to her.  
  
"Pallas wanted it to end this way. I couldn't have beaten him, so he destroyed his defensive armor so my magic could stop him. Cleo, it may not make things better, but he didn't…"  
  
The fact of her appearance saving his life would mean little at this point; it would only prove that Pallas had actually cared more for her than his own life. There was little Orphen could do to stop her pain, but Majic's breathing reminded him. "I have to take Majic to a healer." He said and turned slightly, unable to pry his eyes from her. The things Pallas had said before his death struck him. Things had happened between them, but for some reason Cleo had not gone to him. That would haunt him.   
  
In the midst of Cleo's tears, Orphen began to carry Majic back to Okenforde, beaten by a tragic event which would never be able to leave his dreams. Pallas was dead and Orphen had killed him. Despite all reason or meaning, that was the truth of the matter. Leki lingered a moment, but somehow knew that Cleo had to be alone. The dragon followed Orphen. Cleo was left to listen to her own sobbing as the sun cast a gothic shadow onto the landscape; a final testament to the Rune Fighter of Baloria.  
  
It was Cleo's tears which was monument to Pallas.  
  
The S & S of Calamity  
  
The End 


	6. Epilogue

My Dearest Pallas,

Why is it the words we most want to say are the ones spoken into the past?

It has been one full year since I lost you, but who can count the days when all I can see is your face smiling at me? Even though I've grown a lot since then and things have become very different in the world. The night seems longer, but the fire is warmer. Do you know what I mean? Sorry, I guess I'm rambling.

I'm still traveling with Orphen. Things between us have gotten so - I can't even explain it and I guess you wouldn't want to hear about that kind of thing. Or maybe you're the only person who can truly understand the workings of my heart. That's what makes it so difficult, I think. Despite the things I feel for Orphen and the nights we've spent together, I can always picture you in my mind so clearly when the room is dark and the fire seems so far away. I get so cold, but your smile still warms me, Pallas. I could never ask Orphen, but I've often wondered if I've ever whispered your name into the darkness instead of his. It was only a matter of days that you and I were together but those few days made me happier than I could remember.

I'll never really know why you left that night, when the cool night air was blowing in your window but you held me tight, like you were defending me from some terrible shadow. I can still remember the feeling of your hand over my skin, the way it made me shiver and melt into the very sheets. I would have done anything you wanted that night. Why did you leave me, Pallas? Was it something I did? Was it something I said? I've tried to figure it out every night for a year and I just can't understand why you left without a word and then went on to do such horrible things. The only reason I can think of is the sword was already affecting you. Orphen told me the entire story and why you did those terrible things. Was it that sword - the sword that clouded your mind and took you away from me? Did it make you leave me alone and frightened? Why aren't you here to answer me?

I know I'll never know for sure what happened, but it's okay. Since I know you loved me, it's okay. You could have killed Orphen or Majic or even me, but you didn't and I know why. Because of that, I can live with the fact that the Pallas that I fell in love with is the same Pallas that cut that armor from his wrist and let himself be stopped. I don't blame Orphen for your death. Only a great man like you could have mastered a cursed sword as long as you did and done such wonderful things with a dark relic.

I guess I can tell you really quick what this place has become. People come from all over to see the resting place of the Rune Fighter of Balloria and the famous sword that guards his tomb. No one but us knows the real story, but it makes me smile to hear everyone talking about how great you were and the things you did. The secret of the Salt Abbey sword will go to the grave with all those who know it. And the sword itself will never be used again. Every year they try and pull the sword from the stone but no one has even been able to touch it, much less pull it out. Even after you died, you made the world a better place.

I've wanted to come back here many times, but I could never bring myself to do it. I guess after one year I'm strong enough to face the fact that I will never be able to love you like I want to or have you love me. The things I felt for you were so confusing that I don't know how my life would be if you were still here, but I guess we'll never know what could have been, will we? I'm writing this letter to you to say the things I've wanted to say for a year but never had the courage or time to say them.

Maybe that's why words are pure in a letter - why they come unhindered from the soul and right to the heart of things. Maybe I could have never said these things to you in person. I guess I'll have to settle with leaving this letter here for you to read, so you really understand what you meant to me and how much I miss your smile. This letter is my penance to you for whatever I did to make you go.

I'm going now. Orphen still has somewhere to go and I have to go with him, because I really do love him, Pallas. The last year has taught me that. I won't come back here again, but I will just cherish my memories with you. And when I'm lying alone in the night, when the stone walls are cold and the shadows are moving in the dark all around me, I'll just close me eyes and you'll come out of the night, your eyes open and your smile brightening the stars...and you'll save me from all of the things that frighten me.

My love for you always,

Cleo


End file.
